


bloody hot

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Het and Slash, M/M, Multi, POV Draco Malfoy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Words always retreated when Theo was inside of him, leaving him a panting and whimpering mess. The only thing he could say was Theo’s name, over and over, at different pitches and sometimes sharp, sometimes pulling out into a breath or a moan.Theo had no such problems. He rarely spoke in class or in the Great Hall, keeping mum even in Slytherin house meetings unless it was quite urgent. But in bed, he could talk and talk, a spew of filth leaving his lovely mouth, the words shooting straight to Draco’s cock.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott
Comments: 4
Kudos: 100
Collections: Anonymous





	bloody hot

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4 am. this is porn I wrote in about two hours after first falling into this ship -checks notes- two days ago. idk if it's good, but I loved getting into Draco's head and making him a mess, so I'm calling this a success. 
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own anything. JKR does, but also I don't support or condone JKR's transphobic ass.

Draco hissed into the pillow, pressing his face against the cool fabric like it might just take the heat out of the air, dry the sweat from his skin. The sheets were rumpled around him, but those were charmed to keep heat in, to self-regulate, and they were no relief. Not like the pillow, which was wrapped in a case with a permanent cooling charm, which felt heavenly against his overheated face. 

Theo’s hand was holding the corner of it, fist clenched around the fluffy material and pressing it deep into the mattress by Draco’s shoulder. With each thrust, it dragged that much further away from him. He wanted to keep it, but couldn’t focus, couldn’t think, couldn’t lift his upper body and keep steady enough to snatch it back. He couldn’t even turn over his shoulder and tell Theo to let go of it—his voice was gone, the words someway far away. They always retreated when Theo was inside of him, leaving him a panting and whimpering mess. The only thing he could say was Theo’s name, over and over, at different pitches and sometimes sharp, sometimes pulling out into a breath or a moan.

Theo had no such problems. He rarely spoke in class or in the Great Hall, keeping mum even in Slytherin house meetings unless it was quite urgent. But in bed, he could talk and talk, a spew of filth leaving his lovely mouth, the words shooting straight to Draco’s cock.

Theo grunted as he thrust in again, holding still as their hips pressed flush together, Draco’s rocking minutely back against him and forward against the mattress. He could hardly help himself—it all felt so magnificent. Squirming on Theo’s erection was not an indignity, couldn’t possibly be when it drove him this crazy. 

“Do you like that?” Theo asked, his voice low and sultry. His breath fanned out against Draco’s back, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but he wasn’t speaking to Draco. He drew a hand down his flank, coming to a stop to clutch his hip tightly. Draco stilled, pressing his face harder into the cool fabric of the pillow. “Do you like seeing him come loose? Not so perfectly put together anymore, hm, are you, Draco?”

Draco mumbled something incoherent.

“He’s lovely,” Theo sighed, letting himself slip out a few sweet inches before snapping back forward. Draco moaned, toes curling as he grazed a particularly good spot. “Squeezing around my cock like a vice. He feels so good,” Theo thrust again, “so so good, Draco. He can’t even speak, he’s so gone.” The pillow slipped another inch. “I bet you love this, huh? Love seeing him fucked stupid, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered. Her voice broke through the air, sending a shiver down Draco’s back. He turned his head enough to look beside him, but she wasn’t looking back at him—her eyes were pinned to Theo’s, not even flicking down to where Theo was thrusting into him again and again. A bit glassy, she didn’t look away from their lover, even as her hand was down her knickers, the muscles in her arm jumping as she touched herself.

He couldn’t see anything, not really, but he could picture it in his head—her fingers curled inside of herself, never able to reach where she wanted, the heel of her palm pressing against her clit, wondrous pleasure that by her own admission wasn’t enough. He groaned, his cock twitching, wet sounds suddenly becoming clearer as he listened out for them. If he had any sense in his head, if he could manage to do anything other than take what Theo gave him, then he would’ve reached over, slipped his fingers in beside her own. He could reach the spots she liked. And the sound of her moans were so, so arousing, though really what he loved most was the look in her eyes as he unwound her, piece by piece. 

Soon, he told himself. As soon as he could think again. He would get her off, would touch and taste and make her beg.

“Gets you hot, huh, Hermione? Listening to all the lovely sounds he makes. Feeling him all around you. Feeling him against you.” He grunted as he paused again, grinding as deep as he could go. Draco panted and moved with him, tilting his head back and accidentally bumping into Theo’s. Theo laughed, a guttural sound, and something inside Draco seized at it, overcome with attraction and love for this man. “What is it, Draco? You want some attention? I’m sorry,” he crooned. “I just can’t look away from her. She’s so beautiful, so sweet. You look a little overheated, love, you alright?”

Hermione whimpered, sidling closer. She was hot, not as sweaty as he was but a near thing. She didn’t blush exactly, her skin a few shades too dark to show it obviously, but he could see the signs. Biting her lip, her eyes still glassy, her free hand abandoning her breasts to press the backs of her fingers to her cheek. Their gazes met for a moment, and Draco exhaled, the breath punched out of him as he saw his own feelings—desire and passion and care—reflected back at him.

Draco had enough wherewithal to press a kiss to her bare shoulder, the closest bit of her skin to his mouth, and rested his face there instead. He could accept no cooling charm if it meant he could smell her lotion and shampoo, if it meant he could be touching her too as Theo took him apart. 

Theo let go of the pillow, finally, his free hand reaching out to Hermione. He smoothed his palm up her calf, gripping her behind the knee, a gentle but firm touch that left her rolling her head back into the mattress.

“Ah,” she moaned. Her hand left her cheek and grabbed onto Draco’s arm, slipping to hold onto his wrist. She gasped when Theo’s fingers met hers under her knickers, the wet sounds intensifying as he thrust into her. Draco wished, desperately, that he could see what was happening, could know how many fingers and how deep, and rocked his hips as he imagined sucking her juices off of Theo’s skin.

It took a few tries, but then Theo seemed to match his paces, thrusting into them both hard and fast, the intensity suddenly thick in the air as they all quickly approached the edge.

“You’re gorgeous,” Theo panted, his palm heavy on Draco’s back, pinning him down. He spoke over Draco and Hermione’s noises of pleasure, breathy and lovely. “You’re both so gorgeous, and you’re mine. _Mine_ , mi—oh, oh yeah, love, come on, come on my fingers, you’re so amazing, yeahhh.”

Hermione cried out, her fingernails digging lightly into Draco’s skin, her body curling away from Theo’s hand and into Draco’s side. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, wanted to whisper more words of praise and devotion, but Theo was hitting just the right spot and he couldn’t think at all. He sucked in breaths of Hermione, the sweet scent of her sex in his nostrils, his voice cracking as he got closer and closer.

“Now you, Draco, come on come on. I’m right there, love, you feel so good, you’re milking me so well, I want you to come for me, _come_ —”

Draco was helpless to the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him. He cried out, hips jerking, come soaking into the sheets mindlessly. He couldn’t hear Theo come, but he could feel it, a new, warm pleasure inside him, Theo’s fingers pressing into his back and his hips still pounding a last few times into his arse. 

Boneless, he slumped into the mattress and half into Hermione. One of her arms stretched out over his shoulders, cradling him to her, her fingers carding through his hair. 

“I’m going to eat you out,” Draco mumbled. The words felt right, but were strung together more out of memory and luck than anything else. 

Hermione laughed, soft and breathless. “Maybe after a nap.”

“A nap sounds heavenly,” Theo said, flopping to Draco’s other side. He tugged the pillow back up into place, and though Draco’s head was still cushioned on Hermione’s breast, he could feel the cool air radiating from it and sighed with relief. It was still so bloody hot.

“You can sleep now, love,” Hermione whispered against his forehead. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re lovely,” he mumbled, before slipping off into nothingness.


End file.
